


Hell is what you make

by Viviena



Category: The Smoke (TV)
Genre: Gen or Pre-Slash, M/M, Mental Instability, Minor Injuries, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-13
Updated: 2015-07-13
Packaged: 2018-04-09 03:40:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4332453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Viviena/pseuds/Viviena
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kev struggles with aftermath of all that happened and his mental instability. Dennis keeps coming at work with bruises.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hell is what you make

Kev stares at the wall. He is not sure for how long, but it feels like a year or two. The shift hasn't ended yet though, so it can't be more than three hours. 

Trish insisted on them trying meditation as part of the rehabilitation process when they just started, but he fell asleep twice and felt no difference on other times, so they just dropped it and moved on to other technics. There were plenty. His main problem back then used to be his inability to stop the rush of thoughts and to quiet his mind. 

Now he seams to have the opposite problem and can't find a single though in his head. He doesn't feel sad or bored or anything, and it's hard to tell if his emotions are contained behind a thick wall or they are absent altogether and he is just a burnout human shell now. 

He is not sure when exactly it started, after Trish decided that her child needs her more than Kev does, or after he has killed that little bastard during yet another Churchill estate fire, but the last traces were laced with bitter understanding when Trish refused to come to the beach. It was a wise decision however, because then he realized what exactly he was driving and was actually arrested for half an hour or so. To this day Kev is not sure what in hell got into him back then. 

"Jesus, Asbo!" Ziggy exhales. 

Kev shakes of his dormancy, alarmed with both the name and her tone, and turns his head to the entrance.

Asbo is there and he shrugs with one shoulder clearly uneasy from all the attention. Which is well... understood, since his face is black and blue with his left eye almost hidden from all the swelling and cuts on his noes and lips. 

Little Al and Rob start bombarding him with questions. Who did it? Why? Did he stole something? Killed someone? Slept with someone's wife? Rob gets a quick but pointed glance from Ziggy, and drops the adultery topic mid sentence. Kev notices the exchange but the only thing he can think of is how funny it is, that they can joke about his burns but not his love-life failures. 

It takes another moment for him to process the situation but in the next second Kev is already crossing the room and rising his hand as if to manually inspect Asbo's messed up face. Asbo makes an aborted jerk to move away, but stiffens half way through it, like he's unsure how to react correctly. Kev drops his hand, than stuffs it in a pocket of his pants, and moves away a bit, to give him space. 

"Are you okay?" he asks. He really doesn't want to deal with Asbo right now, but no one in White watch can come in with bruises like that, and not get his personal attention. His work ethic is probably the last part of him that survived this year and he plans on keeping it that way. 

Asbo blinks at him a bit stunned, then slowly nods. 

"Yes, gov" he adds hasty, as if Mal was here to criticize his mumbling. 

Kev can't help but remember their first meeting then. Something not as strong as hate, but more pungent than regret rises up in his throat like bile. Usually he is good in suppressing thoughts that start with "as if, if only, I wish" because they always end painfully and with another session with doc and he is not really sure if she is even a real person, so that is a bad bad place to go. But hell, if he only knew back then! If he could relieve that day and just turn around and leave and never get to know Asbo at all. Get to know Dennis so well, that it is not bloody possible to hate him no matter what.

Kev freezes surprised with the intensity of his inner turmoil. So much for the emotional deficiency he felt for days. Thanks to Asbo, he seams perfectly capable of feeling all his familiar anger, grief and self-pity palette. Thanks to Asbo, yeah exactly. 

He smells a flowery perfume, familiar from all his encounters with Pauline Pynchon and squeezes his eyes shut willing it away. Please not this shit again, he preys silently. When he opens them a moment later there is no pregnant woman around but Asbo is already retreating to "his" armchair in the corner. 

Kev exhales slowly and watches him closer. Asbo has a barely noticeable limp and general carefulness of a person who is hurting but tries very hard not to make it show. Kev can relate to that. 

It bugs him greatly for some reason. 

Injuries are not uncommon on their line of work, even stupid ones, like those Little Al seams to get on every corner. But it's not because Asbo is injured. It's how it looks. Like he got those from a fist fight. Or more like fist beating.

Kev clenches his own hands, feeling the sting from the recent burns. As far as he knows, Gog's funeral was a week ago. He was not about to come, but had sort out his joy-ride at headquarters for a couple of days anyways. He is not sure how the higher-ups let him slide with that. No one wants bad publicity, but there is a limit to the patience of the authorities and he sure is very close to reaching its end. One more misbehavior note and they will kick him out. Kev tries not to be even more pathetic than he usually is, but he is pretty sure, that if he can't be a fireman, he can't live. He grinds his teeth and clenches his fists even more. 

His hands are heeling badly, stinging damaged flesh opening and bleeding over and over again, as if infected with his deed, with Gog's blood. 

Kev shakes his head and looks around. Asbo is talking to Billy the Mince, pressing a raw frozen stake to his face. For a second Kev wonders if that will be the stake he gets for dinner tonight and feels hungry all of the sudden. Flowery scent swirls around him again and Kev is about to start hyperventilating, when a familiar call saves him with a chanting "Mobilize. Mobilize. Mobilize." 

Couple of days after that are uneventful. Asbo is gloomy and silent even more than usually. No fires. Kev is going nuts. He stares at the wall in lethargy but then goes around overfilled with conflicting emotions and just clicks in places loosing big chunks of time in between. He met Pauline twice, always in private and he is too much of a chicken to ask Big Al for the attendance journal. He is so bloody scared to find it clear of any guests.

He thinks about taking a pill, not tramadol, just some potent herbal mix that is supposed to calm him down, but he is afraid of sliding even deeper into catatonia and that it will affect his performance if they get a call. His damaged hands hurt more again. 

The door swings and Asbo is there, looking like shit again, new bruises covering the old not-yet-faded ones. He sets his jaw firm and looks like he is daring someone to say something. 

"...the cage" Kev hears a shushed whisper from Little Al but Rob just shakes his head.

As always Ziggy is the one to brake the silence. 

"Asbo, honey, I know folks in the home abuse dep, they will lock him up for good! Us girls have to stick together," her tone is a mocking one, but her eyes are serious and they get even more so, when he goes pale like a sheet. 

"Asbo" Kev shouts out and jerks his head to his office. "Come in for a sec."

Kev closes the door behind them, pointedly ignoring all the curious stares. When he turns, Asbo is already siting in a chair, with his arms tightly crossed. He looks strangely vulnerable for a person in such a guarded pose. Maybe it's the bags under his eyes, even more prominent on the left swollen side, or how his gaze stays fixed on the floor as if he is to blame for being in such a state. Or is he? Kev feels a bit uneasy because he has no clue what is going on in Dennis' life recently. He has got a lot on his plate too and every time he was about to come to Churchill estate and mend whatever it is... he just couldn't. He left home going there, but somehow ended up in unfamiliar pub drinking himself under the table in more than one occasion. 

"What happened, Dennis?" Kev asks intentionally using his name, tone as gentle as he can, as he would have asked a child stuck in a smashed car. And he immediately realizes it was a wrong thing to say. The thing about firefighters? They learn all that NLP technics. It's good, it's brilliant and helps them do their job. The downside is that it stops working for them. 

Asbo stiffens even more and gets a completely closed off expression. 

"I'm fine. Everything is fine," he says so determined, it is clear, that he is anything but. Kev contemplates him for a second and drops the pretence. 

"Yeah? Because it looks nasty. You think you can calm a victim of an accident with that face?" 

"I" Asbo looks lost for a second. He scrunches his eyebrows and finishes unsure "I'm sorry." He shots a quick glance at Kev's face and casts his eyes back down. "I won't come to the service like this again. I'll figure something out."

"I don't want you to figure out how to cover your injuries better. I want you to stop getting them in the first place!" Kev says and he is surprised with the rise of his own voice and the fact, that he actually means it. Asbo jerks and gets such a hurt yet stubborn look, that it is obvious that the talk is over. Kev sighs. "Just don't be stupid. Whatever it is, I'm sure it's not worth it."

Asbo stands and goes to the door, then turns and gives him a small but unexpectedly genuine smile. "It does." 

Kev looks incredulous at the closed door and feels a reluctant smile form on his own lips. He squeezes his fingers, his hands hurt more today.

**Author's Note:**

> In case it was not clear, Kev is the one doing it to Asbo, he just does't remember it. But they will work it out. And I'm a failure to write it out better. x))


End file.
